


give and take

by shepherd



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Gladnis Weekend, Horny Teenagers, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shepherd/pseuds/shepherd
Summary: Gladio and Ignis have thirty minutes.Written for day one of the Gladnis Weekend celebration.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49
Collections: Gladnis Weekend 2020





	give and take

**Author's Note:**

> my original plan for this completely died on me two days before this was due so i speedwrote this am sorry
> 
> written for the time setting 'brotherhood', and rated m to be safe! it's largely T rated but there's some sexual implications/thoughts

“Do you want to take an early lunch with me, Gladiolus,” Ignis called to him softly as the men around them clambered to their feet, papers fluttering as they sighed and tutted, and Gladio gave him a perfectly even look across the table. It was a thing of pride, he thought. Dull, disinterested, and not a soul would suspect how his heart leapt.

There was a grateful air within the room. Sweet relief as a tedious gathering of overwhelmingly boring people came to an end. Lunchtime slowly dawned, a little earlier than both Ignis and Gladio would have usually taken it, and Gladio did not appreciate his suspicious energy.

It was a barefaced enthusiasm, almost childish on an often-serious face. Gladio might have laughed at him. But he refrained – it would simply spark Ignis’ wrath.

One of them had to hold on to their restraint. With a casual glance to his left he asked, “Is there anything more you need from me, dad?”

Clarus looked between them both for a moment. His reading glasses had sunk to the lowest point of his nose. “Anything, Cor?”

At Ignis’ direct right Cor shook his head. His knuckles popped loudly; jaw shifting. The lion shook himself awake. “Nothing more,” he promised. “Go get yourself a bite, boys. We’ll catch up with you both a little later. After training, maybe.”

Ignis rose immediately. A glint of hope overtook his eye, and he ignored the plastic cup of water that wobbled dangerously by his hand. “Gladiolus, then,” he said gratefully.

With a parting nod toward his father, Gladio stood too. Very few eyes regarded either of them with any curiosity. While they remained young and as of now relatively untangled in Council proceedings, the members of course knew them well. They had yet to grow used to their presence in meetings let alone their input. They thought young men, no matter the importance of their blood, had little say in the games of their elders. Gladio would prove them wrong in time. And so, he knew, would Ignis.

Instead they spoke amongst themselves or made a beeline for their king – Clarus and Cor intercepted, as always, and Ignis of all people slipped beneath their radar. No one paid much attention to a silent boy who watched and learned, still unaware that he waited for the perfect moment to strike.

“I will see you soon, father,” Ignis murmured as they departed, abruptly recalling his manners. Cor’s eyes lingered on them a short while and it drew Gladio’s shoulders unbearably tight. Ice blue eyes saw more than Cor shared, and burnt with an intensity that set something uncomfortable in Gladio’s gut. He was loathe to let Cor of all men stumble across their secret.

Unfortunately, there was no acting natural. Ignis was a bundle of energy and nerves beside him, flighty and eccentric. At least, Gladio knew, they would never guess the truth.

They joined the slow trickle of those moving on, condemned to other meetings or to trawl through their emails or overwhelming stacks of paperwork. Gladio had much to do himself in the middle of even this bland week but still they squeezed through the tight door together, pretending for the benefit of others. They ambled towards the lunch halls for a while to keep up the ruse, but Ignis steadily picked up his pace. New leather shoes squeaked across the tile.

It was no effort at all for Gladio to keep up with his long legs, but they drew interested eyes. Ire coloured Councilman Vox’s expression particularly as Ignis swept unthinkingly past him and Gladio grunted.

“Keep it cool,” he muttered for Ignis’ ears only, and always bright eyes flickered towards him. The boy glanced between Gladio and their peeking companions, and he blanched for a quick moment before a dusky pink highlight sat upon his cheeks. It was a mark that Gladio had quickly grown to adore.

Realising how it looked, Ignis slowed his pace. “Apologies,” he murmured, and made sure to flash him a smile for their audience. It made Gladio’s chest feel strange things. “What’s on the menu for you today?”

“Something sweet,” Gladio replied with a wry sideways look, and Ignis’ light flush deepened into red.

“Perhaps we ought to attend to my office first,” he replied, loud enough for the hallway to catch. Ignis had an inexplicable need for witnesses, and a sense of innate drama that needed to make absolutely anything more complex than it strictly needed to be. Gladio had learned not to question him in times like these. Ignis didn’t take questioning gracefully. “I believe I left something of vital importance behind.”

“Sure,” Gladio drawled, and they broke away from the crowd at the very last moment. They left behind the voices as they took off towards Ignis’ rooms and Ignis soon picked up his pace again, peering down empty halls and jumping at the sound of opening doors. All the while Gladio followed casually, hands shoved in his pockets, nodding to all those who passed them by. They were opposites in the eyes of many. Ignis bustled ahead while Gladio flagged behind, and when Ignis realised how far behind he had fallen, he turned and glowered.

“Gladiolus,” he said sharply. There was not much further to go. A crossroads approached with Ignis’ office to their right.

Gladio caught up and Ignis strode to the left-hand corridor without another word. Throwing up his brows but knowing it was best to keep these thoughts to himself, Gladio followed. Mystery lay beyond.

“I get it,” he said easily even as his belly knotted up with anticipation. His eyes lingered dangerously on the curve of Ignis’ waist, his form fitting black trousers. His thighs were growing stronger every day since he picked up his lance. Gladio enjoyed the prospect of knocking Ignis flat and enjoying the sight of his bare, heaving chest.

It was as if Ignis knew the dangerous path his thoughts were leading. He rumbled with dissatisfaction, eyes narrowed. “Stop staring at me,” he commanded, and Gladio thought only about how nicely the softness of Ignis’ ass fit in his hands, and how it might feel bare against his skin.

“Mhm,” he said, and liked a flustered Ignis best.

No one came down to these parts. Even in the Citadel there were quiet corners, filled with scheming and secrets, and Ignis continued to lead him even further down into the ambiguity. This was something new. Ignis’ need for security lingered and to an extent was justified – but none would simply barge into his office. The place was filled with fools, and still there were none so dire.

“Ignis,” Gladio called to him, touched with amusement, and suddenly Ignis paused at an unknown door.

It creaked loudly as Ignis sharply tugged it open, and he looked skittishly down the far ends of the empty hall. When satisfied that no one was coming, a fist seized a handful of Gladio’s plain shirt and hauled him inside, eager to not be seen.

It was a moment longer before it hit, but Gladio wrinkled his nose in disgust. A foul stench met his nostrils. “Fuck,” he said. It was the sourness of dust that plagued him – thick and heavy, utterly unmistakable. It was like no one had entered this room in years. “What the hell are we doing in here?”

No response came. The door shut soundly and Gladio had a split second to take in the room. It was bright inside without the lights. Weak winter sunlight streamed through a small window. It illuminated thickly falling dust that had been disturbed from the tops of piled high cardboard boxes. Some of the contents spilled out across the floor and Gladio recognised each. They were Citadel decorations from the new year and winter festival, all kinds of wire lights and baubles, all packed away for another time as the new year settled in for the long haul.

It was the perfect place, despite the smell. No one would disturb them here and Gladio cracked a smile as Ignis grabbed him and yanked him down for a kiss.

It was still clumsy and always aggressive - all of Ignis’ hallmarks. Their mouths barely met but their teeth roughly collided. Ignis hissed into him but never recoiled. He worked determinedly to realign with Gladio’s mouth, hands gripping tight, and despite all Gladio’s laughter he basked in his touch.

Ignis had made an attempt to fix his breath from their last encounters. It was thoughtful of him and dangerously close to sweet, but Gladio would never dare tell him that with his tongue so close to Ignis’ vengeful teeth. Rather than tasting intensely of bitter coffee, as Gladio had teased him for time and time again, he was perfectly fresh. It was as bold as if he had been munching mints all the way through the Council meeting.

Despite everything, Gladio risked Ignis’ ire. He laughed again against Ignis’ searching mouth. In response Ignis bristled, incensed, but as always remained charmed by the softness of Gladio’s mouth.

Ignis would kill him for this after, but the moment was too good to pass up. Their meetings were hardly few and far between, with Ignis always crawling back for more, but Gladio loved to see him squirm each and every time. Tilting his head to better slot their mouths together, Gladio dared to cup a handful of Ignis’ rear. He squeezed hard and Ignis grunted unhappily against his mouth even as his hands slid across Gladio’s chest, settling upon his shoulders. His eagerness was clear cut. Strong hands held him firmly, fingers digging into the muscle he had built up.

As it always did, the world narrowed to just the two of them. They cared for nothing more than each other’s mouths and bodies. Ignis’ personal scent overtook the mildew and dust. That was funny too – Ignis collected a great many scents from the cheap and functional to the atrociously expensive, mostly gifts from ill-fated suitors or family. The latter he wore only when he was eager to impress and Gladio knew today’s scent. Thousands of gils worth in a tiny bottle, gifted by the king himself, and Gladio could not pretend that Ignis’ skin was not alluring, touched with an intimate scent that Gladio grew to adore. When it came to Ignis, he was a weak man, and he breathed in deeply.

All the while his lungs began to protest and burn. But Ignis’ lips were determined and satin soft – Gladio could not tear himself away. With a firm yank he pulled Ignis from his pedestal, pulling him closer by his rear, and Ignis broke away to gasp a curse.

Gladio savoured his favourite sight. Ignis’ pliant lips were a beautiful pink. A gleam of hunger brightened his heavy eyes and with his locked onto Gladio’s mouth, lips parted, he barely let Gladio rest before he was upon him again. They parted only for brief moments of relief, seeking the other’s reassuring signs of equal want. Ignis’ clever tongue flicked out determinedly, eager to take all that he could.

It was hard to believe that they had been scampering around like this for nearly half a year. Like they were kids again, finding the best secrets of the Citadel to hide within, hands sticky with honey from glazed cakes swept up from the kitchen counters. At seventeen Gladio still ate well but hungered for something far sweeter. Ignis had swiftly become enraptured, beginning as a humble boy who reached out first on a whim, uncertain, but always wanting as his mind and body became more confusing – and Gladio’s more alluring. And his tongue learned quickly. Now he kissed like Ifrit himself had lain a blessing on his skin, like wildfire. That fascinating flush spread across his body, and Gladio was interested in discovering just how far it ran.

Still there were a great deal of questions to be asked. What they were, who they were to one another – boyfriends, or simply two boys who liked how the other looked and loved how they tasted. Gladio burnt to know but could not bear the shame of asking and earning Ignis’ bewilderment. It was easier to keep his head down and kiss Ignis until his mouth was sore. Now was not the time for childish questions, no matter how Gladio enjoyed his company.

“Mm,” Ignis sighed against his mouth, seeking the heat Gladio happily gave. His lips were wine red. It seemed he had no clue how vocal he had become.

It didn’t matter now. Gladio savoured it still. “C’mere,” he said, and cupped his throat with a steady hand. Against his thumb Ignis’ pulse was a jackhammer – frenetic, and Gladio wanted to taste it with his tongue.

Moaning softly at his touch, Ignis’ eyelids fluttered. Something within him gave in, almost docile. “Yes.”

A part of him wondered if Ignis’ whole body was as sensitive as his lips. Gladio was dying to know. He was desperate to keep him hazy, to bask in his gasps. Together they had done only a little more than kiss, and on the rare occasions they met within their private spaces, Ignis had sometimes slipped his hands beneath Gladio’s shirt simply felt. It was enough to make his hands tremble. There was a whole new world to explore if Ignis wanted it, and Gladio certainly wanted. While he would never dare admit it, he dreamed of it often.

Perhaps Ignis did too. He was eager enough, often stealing Gladio away each day and in a few happy days, multiple times in the span of mere hours. He craved Gladio’s mouth. Each time Gladio kissed him Ignis lost the hard edge that working in the Citadel gave him too easily. It was enough to stroke both Gladio’s ego and desire.

“Ah,” Gladio said, and took many attempts to pull away. Ignis chased him each time. “Come on.”

Enthused, Ignis lunged forward for him. But Gladio took careful hold of his forearm, pulling him deeper inside the room. A burning sensation claimed his lips and tongue. Ignis frowned at him, the magic of his contentment slipping away steadily, but Gladio kept him distracted with the kneading hand on his ass.

Taking one of the old dining chairs tucked away in a corner – last year’s look, golden cushions adorned with poppies. A strange burst of colour ill-suited to the Citadel – Gladio sat with his back straight against the seat rest, legs parted. Patting his thighs invitingly, he had no time to speak.

Ignis wasted no time. Clambering onto his lap he seized Gladio again, kissing him firmly, palms against his cheeks. Gladio captured his lower lip between his teeth and worked hard to kiss away the crease of disappointment.

It was an understatement to say that Gladio knew Ignis loved this time. The boy tried to crawl closer and closer, an impossible feat. Dignity had been long left at the door. A bookish boy with quick wit strove to prove each of his passions, all with his untamed tongue. Gladio knew all along that Ignis was far more than his weekly planner and kitchen utensils.

The boy was a devil. No doubt about it.

Gods only knew the time. A half hour spent wound together, exhausting themselves, was time well spent. Gladio’s mouth and jaw ached. His carefully braided hair began to fray. It hurt and still he kissed Ignis’ own savaged mouth.

All else paled in significance. Gladio would not let him go free. He chased mint, Ignis’ murmurs and subdued groans, the scandal of their slick sounds filling the room. The Shield and the Marshal’s sons hidden away, locked together beneath their father’s noses. The thrill made his blood rush, his heart skipping a beat.

“Gladio,” Ignis moaned for him, and his belly lurched as a phone began to buzz.

Startled, they jumped apart. Ignis’ eyes were blown wide and brimming with panic. Gladio swore his heart froze for an instant, only for the tension to melt right out of their bodies as realisation dawned.

“Oh,” Ignis said and reluctantly untangled from his limbs, rising from his lap as if he hadn’t been desperate mere seconds ago. It was a mixed blessing. Gladio’s hunger yearned to be sated and had manifested itself in unsavoury ways. Gladio pinched his legs close together to relieve the sudden tightness of his pants.

Ignis’ phone was silenced in a flourish. Against that and the missing sounds of their union, the room was awkwardly silent. “Our lunch is over,” Ignis explained. “I have a meeting to attend.”

Disappointment darkened Gladio’s expression at the same time disbelief filled him. By setting a timer Ignis had thrown a damper on his ego. Any thrill Gladio got from this fled. “With who?”

“Noctis’ piano tutor,” Ignis explained distantly, and he was a state. A mussed, freshly kissed look had overtaken his once neat hair and his shirt had crumpled in a few odd places. Dissatisfied, Ignis huffed and shot an accusatory look at Gladio’s hands. In turn Gladio’s couldn’t help but feel defensive – Ignis would sing the praises of these hands and Gladio would make him beautiful.

If he were given a chance, at least. Not for the first nor the last time he cursed their uneven schedules. The lightness in his chest was gone, and the mess of want and irritation in his gut remained. “You’re going now?”

“That is the general idea of an appointment, yes,” Ignis replied, adjusting his sleeves carefully. It was hard to take him seriously when such sarcasm came from ruined, raw lips, and his breath still made his chest heave. An airy longing removed any bite from Ignis’ nature. “To be on time.”

Gladio leaned forward, unhappy. The time had flown too quickly, and his yearning could not be denied. “Couldn’t have been half an hour.”

“Twenty-five minutes,” Ignis agreed. “Enough time to make sure I am punctual and presentable.”

Huffing, Gladio sat back again. Stiffed in more ways than one. “You gonna just leave me here?”

“I have many places to be after, so if you chose to remain, yes.” Ignis shot him a self-satisfied smile.

Annoyed, his nostrils flared. Gladio was not one to be kicked out of bed once the fun had ended. He preferred the Ignis that moaned into his mouth and shivered when hands stroked over his hips. But that Ignis could be coaxed back easily – he stood, taking a smug pleasure in the way that Ignis’ eyes lingered on his mouth, and how he stood a few solid inches above Ignis still. It was the bane of Ignis’ life, he knew, and Gladio rest his hand heavily upon Ignis’ shoulder to see it slope.

Ignis’ eyes lost some of their bravado. His throat bobbed as he swallowed and Gladio leaned in close, making sure to cast a shadow. “Carve out some time in that busy schedule of yours for me tonight,” he rumbled, their eyes meeting. “I’m not done with you yet.”

There was time enough for one last, long kiss, and Gladio made damn sure that Ignis left the room on unsteady feet.


End file.
